Choke On Your Words And Die
by NaniWise
Summary: Happy creative freedom AU. (DIO, not Dio) All-timelines-in-one AU. Living as nothing more than a head in the basement basement of his mortal enemy, he, Dio, is given a lot of time to think and observe his surroundings and, as much as he hates it, finds that he was wrong about many things.
1. Chapter 1

First Jojo fic, here I come! I own nothing. I hope you enjoy and God bless!

He, Dio never slept like a human would, that familiar nightly ritual every human knows, being a vampire and all the other wonderful awe inspiring things he was. He did not feel the need to and even if he did desire it, which he never did really, it usually meant his hibernation was near. Either way, he never really experienced the familiar sensation of waking up, that unpleasant reminder that one had to return to one's job and work their life away like some insignificant pawn of society.

He did not mourn that fact but like the Joestar family always seemed to do, they pushed him oh so very close top doing so.

"For Heavens sake Erina! What do you expect me to do?!"

Jonathan. His voice powerful booms throughout the mansion causing the walls to shake and dust to fall from the ceilings like snow in summer.

Dio could not ignore that voice. Instinctively it put him on edge like he were about to battle him to the death. He could not relax, and the tension made his teeth grind together.

Honestly, he thought as he hissed, it was almost like he were in the middle of their petty married couples argument.

He wanted to rub his sensitive ears for relief but life as nothing more than a head in a jar stashed away in the basement had constricted him top only wishing one of the mortals shouting would drop dead at any moment, wondering just what on earth he could have done on that cruise ship to make things different.

The particular scenario he pondered was just how on earth he could have foreseen that Jonathan had taught Erina some Hamon as a defense. Just who on earth could have foreseen that?

Although, he would not defeat just yet. He may have been bested this once but he would never admit defeat.

He would kill that Jojo if it was the last thing he, Dio, would do.

A miserable existence, it was.

He had no idea what they were even arguing about but whatever it was, it had progressed to the point that they were shouting so loudly the very house shook.

It was a typical married couple's business. As soon as the honeymoon period wore off, they were sure to be at each others throats and, as much as he enjoyed the rare moments in which they held a mutual dislike for each other, he desperately wished he did not have to sit through every waking second of it.

"To just be home! That is all I desire Jonathan! I miss my husband, but it is clear he doesn't feel the same!"

But your not alone, he thought to himself with a slight smirk, you gave I, Dio, with you.

"Erina you know I would never-!"

"Please, just... just get out... I can't stand to be around you right now..."

"...Erina please..."

"No, just... Just please..."

There was a silence.

Dio was surprised. She rarely raised her voice but then again, Jonathan was so sickeningly gentlemanly that he would never even raise his hand against a fly.

He guessed they both seemed to cancel each other out.

But the part that surprised him the most was how Jonathan just left right after that short exchange. He knew he did because his scent had suddenly going so far away.

Dio knew he would be back. The two were grossly in love, two idiotic mortal beings made for each other, and Erina just needed a bit of time to cool down.

That wasn't what surprised him. It was how, with just her words, that backwater shrew could just banish the only man capable of besting him, Dio.

He certainly could not do that and he was infinitely more powerful than her, so how was she able to command a man stronger than both of them?

He sighed. Love was a strange servitude, one he could not possibly fathom.

It enslaved even the most powerful men without complaint. It was the reason men died for a country that did not love them. It was the motive behind the most irrational of things.

If what that boy Pucci said was true, than God is a loving being, so, the more he thought about it, perhaps loving someone was the closest one could get to no longer remaining human.

Who knows. Perhaps that Erina girl was even stronger than Jonathan himself, and perhaps he, Dio, could use that to his advantage.

Well, at least the woman banished his mortal enemy for now, for once at least working in his favor, so at least he could get some rest.


	2. Chapter 2

**I own nothing. This is where the creative freedoms come in. Basically, I like having all the jjba characters in one crackfic, and nothing makes me happier than Dio's lovely children, so I wanted it to be like, while Jonathan was trying to kill Dio, there was a short period of time where he had possession over his body, and as Erina and Jonathan are married, the illegitimate children that pop up are a cause for concern which is why they are fighting. Married couples are weird. Any ways, I own nothing and God bless you all!**

It was not often that he, Dio, could be wrong, and even rarer that he could muster up the humility from his stone cold heart to admit it. It was probably only a once in a century thing, or at least it was supposed to be. Of course, however, he, Dio found himself separated from his body many years ago and yet he found himself being wrong quite allot these days, and this day was no different.

It had been two days, two early silent days and Jonathan had yet to come home.

The hours passed by drearily, every second of it, Dio's irritation growing.

Had he really just left? Had he really just abandoned him in this boring hellish basement in this jar to rot? He felt the hatred pumping through his blood, every second, growing upon his surroundings like some kind of mold.

And that woman, he though venomously, that horrid weed.

That wretched wench of a woman. That pathetic excuse for a carbon based lifeform. That absolute idiot imbecile. That vile Erina had hired a priest.

Why, one might ask?

Well as it turned out, she heard a very disturbing sound coming from the basement; An angry "Wryyyyyyyy" and immediatly assumed the house was either haunted or possessed by a demon which, all things cinsidered, he, Dio, guessed it was, but it absolutely did not mean she had to go contact a preist over it.

Honestly, he was just slightly more agitated because Jonathan wasn't here and it was becoming more and more clear by the second that Jonathan never told his lovely wife about the fact that he hid hids step brother in the basement.

He had been hidden in this basement since their marriage, and never once had she felt the so called "evil spirit" she heard over the phone. Why had she felt it now?

So now, wearing the most ghastly snear he, Dio, could muster, which was a beautifully ghastly one, he just sat there, a head in an airtight jar, waiting for some preist to wonder in like some curious child, with his holy water, and his crusifixes.

He, Dio was in a tight spot both figuritively and literally. He could not escape. He was in a particularly malnourished and power deprived state that even a clever human could finish him off.

Knowing Erina, she was more than enough to finish the job.

His sensetive ears picked up footsteps coming closer; Closer to the staircase. Erina did not dare come down here. Surely it was a stroke of bad luck, maybe purely his fate. God surely hated him after all he had done and acomplished.

Or worse. Jonathan planned this. He planned to teacvh his lovely wife hamon so that she could stumble upon him on accident and give him an awful death weithout dignity, but only to her liking.

His teeth ground together hard at the prospect.

He hated it. He hated it. He hated it.

Oh, what was the word? For being stuck and unable to do anything about it? It was right on the tip of his tongue like he had said it a hundred times before but he just could not remember it!

The preist was comming closer and for a moment, he, Dio of all people, felt something akin to a fear adrenalin rush. The footsteps triggered his fight or flight instinct, something he didn't even know he still had. For a mere moment, with sweat upon his brow, Dio genuinely thought that, if he didn't think of something fast, it would be all over for him.

Closer.

Closer.

All too close.

And then that moment ended when all too familiar scent filled his nostrals.

Pucci.

Dio possibly breathed the largest sigh of relief he ever remembered breathing. If he had a heart, it would be racing in his chest at the bloody speed of light.

Pucci? Pucci? Really? How the hell? What were the chjances, of all the preists in the country, Erina just happened to call the only ally Dio had left in the world?

How?

Light fell down the stairwell and it may haved reminded Dio a bit ofd the religious imagary in chathedrals, like the preist were and angel sent from heavy, like there was actually a God that still loved him.

He sighed quietly to himself. Well, if one was ever to be wrong about anything, their immenant demise was certainly a good thing to be wrong about. Hurrah! The great mighty Dio was not slain by the coming of a familiar face.

The door cloosed and the light disapeared with a quiet click of the lock. The light was not entirely gone, though. Judging by the faint illumination and the scent of burning oil, Pucci had a lamp with him.

But, he paused. He did not continue walking, and he, Dio, knew why.

"...Lord Dio?" He called out.

Dio smirked, but the only thing he could think of as a response was a deep hiss.

"Wryyyyyyyyy..."

Maybe things were working in his favor and who knows, maybe this day could turn into a blessing after all.

And so, for the first time in a long time, Dio had a long talk with an old friend.

"I'll remain quiet. I can't have the lady of the house growing suspicious. I hope I wasn't to late to keep you from cursing God."

"If there was ever a time I wanted you to appear..."

"I have eyes all over town. Nothing happens in the Joestar household without me knowing about it. I can assure you, I would never have let any further harm come to you. When I heard of a haunting, I knew it had to have been you so I came."

"...So Erina does not know of my presence? You did not tell her?"

"...My lord, of course not, I would never betray you like that. Now, be it far from me to assume, but have you been...?"

"Crying? Is that what you were wondering, Pucci?"

He had been, but he wasn't about to admit it. It wasn't a sign of weakness, and he certainly hadn't been sad. His eyes would seemingly just spring a leak when he was worked up, appareantly.

"I do not mean to question..."

"No, friend, it has been hellish! Absolutely miserable! They will not stop bickering! Every day, none stop bickering! And there are rats! And spiders! Every kind of filth imaginable!"

"Shhhh... Shhhhh... I am here now. So, is there any way I can make this better for you? Shall I take you away from here to the cathedral perhaps?"

"No, I, Dio, do not think I should." He sighed, "It is better to keep one's enemies close, and besides, that shrew of a woman would notice. I don't bel

ieve JoJo will ever not be an obstacle until he is defeated."

"Very well, my lord."

"However, if there is any way you could convince them to stop bickering..."

"I could perhaps tell them, it enrages the spirit that lives in their house when they bicker. It would not neccesssary be a lie so it would not be a sin."

"... Or you could just lie to the woman."

"No, God will not bless such a thing."

"...Grrrr... Very well, have it your way."

"Either way, you are responsible for it-"

"What was that?"

"O-Oh nothing at all...M-My lord, if I may ask a rather..."

"You wish to ask me a question?"

"Ah... Well..."

But to Dio's anger, in the light of the lamp, he saw the priest suddenly rise to his feet.

"I-I'll ask you another time if thats alright. Erina will begin to get suspicious. It would be in your best interest if I left soon...Is there anything you would haver me do..."

For a moment, Dio thinks, until a brilliant idea comes to him.

"Do you still have those blood samples I gave you?"

"You're blood samples?" Pucci furrows his eyebrows, "Of course."

"Drop one or two drops in her afternoon tea or something. It will not be enough to turn her but just enough for me to be present inside her. I will see through her eyes and only that. Anymore, and they could sense my presence."

"Of course my lord."

"And..."

"And?"

"And... Don't go just yet... It's dreadfully boring..."

And of course, in that familiar way, his friend pulled out his Bible and began to read to him. Even if the supossed "exorsism" of the house lasted quite a bit longer, Erina did not bat an eyelash when the friendly preist recited a few chapters of Genesis in the basement.

That night, Dio had a vivid vision of Pucci telling her that the spirit was calm for now but that he would have to check by every week to make sure it didn't happen again and Dio smiles, knowing that that meant his friend fufilled his request.


	3. Looking back

I own nothing. All rights go to the original owners. Good day and God bless every single one of you nice people~!3

_To any who desire to hear, let me tell you a story._

_Some years ago, some what felt like a hundred years ago, a young boy who had never known the sky, who had never given heaven or immortality much thought was tucked in by his kind mother in whose sharp blue eyes he saw all those things. He was laying in his filthy bug infested bed as old as he was, but it never bothered him, no, it could scarcely even reached the surface of hiss mind when he had so much more to think about, like the worrisome fact that those heavy tear streaks and bruises under her swollen eyes were blocking his view of such things._

_The boy was no stranger to the pain of a black eye or two and eventually with time, all things healed and her pale soft skin would return to its former beauty before that man ever raised his fist against her, but without the sky, sleep meant nothing, without the vastness of galaxies over head, the legends lost their beauty, without the twinkle of the starts, the lullabies lost their melody, and without the light of the moon, the night would be as dark as death, his mothers kisses would be nothing more than the cold kisses of a corpse and dreams would be deemed forever as nothing more than pipe dreams for pathetic commoners like them._

_Oh but the boys mother also told him of dreams, of promises, of words that would shape his wildest fantasies. _

_She told him things. She said that her parents were very wealthy and one day they would find her and take her and him far away from this place, so far away that man he called his father would be nothing more than a memory, to their castle on the countryside. They had acres and acres of land that seemed to go on forever, extending far into the horizon, far beyond the end of the world so that even the sun was reachable and that they could touch it without being burned. _

_She said they had orchards of apples, that they grew the best blood red apples and, after a long day of work, one could relax with the tasteful treat of apples and honey while they sat surrounded by the warm comfort of family, friends, and the fire in the fireplace._

_She said they owned a herd of beautiful white horses that would let you ride them all day said he would get his own pony when they went there._

_She said it never stormed. She said the sun never beat down. She said he would understand when he went. No, never an "if", always a "when"._

_She said they never had to worry about food, water, or shelter. They would never have to work only to beaten. She said that they could finally be happy._

_She said, one day. One day, she said._

_He never knew what to make of these words, how they rushed from his mothers lips in a familiar hushed whisper on breathe that warmed his face, as she lay beside him, hoping for just another moment with her son before her wretched husband called her downstairs once more to attend to his every beckoned call and cruel whim, but one thing he knew for sure was that he wanted her to find this place, this heaven she knew once because it was only when she talked of this place that either of them felt happy._


	4. Chapter 3

I own nothing. All rights go to the original owners. I am so so so sorry for the long wait. My family moved and my monitor broke in the process. It took me a while to get the money and buy another one. Really sorry again. ALSO TW THIS CHAPTER REFERENCES A KINDA VISUAL SUICIDE KINDA BE WARNED!!!! Good day and God bless every single one of you nice people.

Erina could cook, apparently. He, Dio, feared for the safety of this house and, in turn, his physical body which sat in the basement, when she first stepped in front of the oven but after an hour or two into the projects she intended to consume for dinner, he realized she was experienced in this.

Honestly, he wasn't entirely positive why he doubted she would know, as she was Jojo's wife and any woman chosen by his, Dio's, equal would surely be a woman with skills worthy of the title.

So perhaps his, Dio's judgment was right as it always was and always would be.

He'd surely be one step ahead of Jonathan yet.

The inclination gave him a rush of excitement and ecstasy.but to his surprise, when he felt this feeling while seeing the world through Erina's eyes, the woman began to giggle.

There was nothing funny in the room, no, there was nary a soul in the room that could have done a thing to make the woman suddenly so cheerful, and as the old theory of physics goes, energy does not simply come from nothing.

From his view from inside her cranium, Dio soon found that nothing really brought this seemingly random fit of giggles, and she was not thinking of anything in particular when she put her apple cream pies in the oven for baking, but rather a reason to giggle, be it the sweet flavor of the apples or the time Jonathan tripped and poured milk all over Speedwagon's new suit, which Dio enjoyed far too much, which, to his surprise, brought about a number of other amusing flashbacks in turn.

Soon he, Dio, in his genius, formulated a theory. He let himself believe that, just maybe while he was in Erina's empty little head, she fell victim to his own emotions without being even able to distinguish them from her own. She was practically his own puppet and as long as he kept himself quiet and outside of Jonathans view, she'd stay that way.

He had to control his joy. As much as he wanted to imagine the fear and horror on Jonathan's face as he tortured, killed, ate everyone he ever loved, that would not do anything but harm in Erina's head and that Jonathan would surely know it was him.

He could not turn her into a complete monster like himself just yet. One wrong step and he would be done for.

So he restrained himself and as with everything he did, he did a perfect job.

Which was why it shocked him so terribly yet again when her dopamine and serotonin levels in her brain suddenly hit the floor.

He hardly saw it coming. One moment she was fine, even chipper as a bird in the early morning and the next she was entirely overcome with a wave of sadness.

Dio hadn't done a thing. He wasn't sad in any way, no this was Erina's own emotion and at the center of it was an image.

The images around her began to change.

Suddenly, she was blinded by a memory and Dio saw it all through her eyes.

An image of a familiar scene of Erina baking a pie, but she was not alone this time.

At first Dio thought the image shown in Erina's minds was her baking with Jonathan, but he quickly realized his mistake.

This was a mere child. He only resembled Jonathan entirely too much.

Slender, and not skinny. Short, but not too short.

It did not take long to realize who the boy was. He'd recognize those eyes anywhere.

No, this was Jonathan's and Erina's son.

He was confused. He had never heard anything of this child, but then he remembered that he had not really known what happened inside the Joestar household for many many years, even by a vampires standards, which was when he began his pursuit to destroy Jonathan and all he ever loved and Jonathan had taken up the responsibility to do the same to him, not that he, Dio, really loved anything in particular. He was above those ways. He left them behind with his humanity.

If he recalled, there were several years where Dio thought he had permanent possession over Jonathans by stealing it, existing inside it while his own body rested in Egypt, but alas Jonathan had yet again triumphed over him through sure stubborn willpower, but that long period of time made sense of why Jonathan was not here in this sickeningly sweet family memory.

And one word was whispered through her head like the wind.

Just one word. The boy's name.

"Jorge..." She seemed to whisper as miserably as the dying animal she was.

Jorge. The name rolled over and over in Dio's head. He hated it. It was a terrible name. It only made sense that the two pathetic self righteous lovebirds would call their little offspring such a name.

But it still didn't make sense. Why was Erina so sad about her own child? Weren't parents supposed to love their children, he wondered quite hypocritically.

More words came to mind, overlapping with the boys name like it were all being spoken by a choir.

It was almost hard to put up with. He would have left her in her sadness then and there if he wasn't so curious.

"Why..." Said the voice, " Why weren't... you there...Jonathan...?"

Jonathan? Had Jonathan done something wrong? That peaked his, Dio's pointed ears. What had Jonathan done to make his wife, his love, his only weakness cry?

Was he truly to blame? Was it why they were fighting before?

Dio was compelled to dig deeper.

He did.

He didn't even have to push that hard to get a response, almost as though the answer, that image, were laying under her skin at all times, haunting the woman, destroying her from the inside.

Even he, Dio, had to admit, the next image that came into her mind was far from what he expected.

It was the image of the boy, Jorge and Erina stroking his hair, whispering sweet words.

"Rockabye... Baby... On the tree top..." She sang to him.

He was laying on the floor in an odd position.

"When the wind blows..."

His dilated eyes were cast to the ceiling like there was something that captured his attention so profoundly he couldn't help but stare without even blinking, his jaw open wide in a silent scream. Nonetheless, Erina knelt beside him, singing despite the fact that he did not appear as though he wanted to sleep at all.

"The cradle will rock..."

It was almost hard to recognize him because of how thin and ghastly pale he had become. But something was very wrong here.

"If the bough breaks... The cradle will fall..."

It suddenly occurred to Dio that Erina had heavy tears falling down her cheeks and the boy, well, he was dead.

"M-Mother... Will catch" Her voice cracked on that verse, " Catch you... Cradle and all..."

Very undeniably dead. Blood pooled around him like some kind of halo to reiterate his point, pouring heavily like rivers from the gashes on his arms.

"Baby is drowsing... Cozy and fair..."

A cold chill ran down his deathly cold skin.

"Mother sits near in her rocking chair..."

They were self inflicted. Dio could tell from the knife laying in the boys limp hand. A suicide of all things. He never thought he'd see the day a Joestar took their own life. Well, yes they were so niave and stupid that they always seemed to throw themselves in situations that could get them killed, but never did he think that any Joestar would fall to such despair.

"...Forward and back... The cradle she swings..."

He thought they were invincible to those things. He thought they would never succumb to darkness.

"Though baby sleeps... " She was now openly weeping into her hand as she stroked his hair, "H-He... He hears... What ... What she sings-..."

Dio really thought that they were all immortal, the lot of them.

"Rockabye baby... Do you not fear..."

Now it all made sense. The fighting, the tears, but this had happened several years ago, surely, since Erina looked quite a bit younger.

"Nevermind, baby... Mother is here..."

Where was Jojo in all this? Where had he gone?

This despair meant nothing to Dio unless Jojo was there to see it and Dio could say he was the one to cause it.

"Wee little fingers, eyes are shut tight..."

He just wanted the memory to end. He wanted to force himself out but he knew he couldn't do that without notifying her of his presence inside her head.

"Now sound asleep... Until-"

And then it ended.

"Erina?" Said a voice and suddenly both Dio and Erina were snapped back into reality. Suddenly all the blood had been replaced by apple juices and instead of her son, Erina held a pie pan, fitted with a crust and everything.

Suddenly she was back in her kitchen, facing her countertop and suddenly, at least from Dio's perspective, her dopamine levels were normal again.

That nightmare was over.

They were back in the now.

She was not thinking about Jorge, but rather the voice.

Who was it that called her? Was it one of the servants, she wondered, so she turned to face the owner of the voice.

What she took her breath away.

"Jonathan-?!" She gasped, her heart rate suddenly picking up, appetizingly pumping blood through her veins.

And indeed, Dio was no better as far as shock went.

Yes, at the entrance of the kitchen, almost just as tall as the doorway stood Dio's greatest enemy, Jonathan Joestar.

He let a little of his distrust leak into Erina's mind, just a little seed of doubt but not enough for her to notice.

But for the first time in his very long life, he was absolutely ecstatic to see Jojo.

But he was soaked from head to toe in rain water. His hair was wet, sticking to his face like paint brush strokes and his suit was dripping heavy puddles upon the nice carpet.

"Y-You are crying?" He muttered, looking quickly more aggressive than a moment before, "Why? What has happened, my-"

"You were out in the rain?! You-You idiot!"

Erina rushed forward and before any of them could even understand what was happening, she had her small arms wrapped around his beefy shoulders in a tight embrace.

Dio did his best to ignore this and hoped that her utter joy to see him was by no way influenced by his preference of Jojo being around.

But Jonathan seemed to be just as shocked, seemingly lifted his hands, unsure if he could return her embrace.

"Where did you go?!" The woman sobbed into his shoulder, "You could have gotten sick, you could have-!"

But a look of shame fell over Jonathan's soft features as he lowered his hands and whispered into her hair, "I went to visit the church..."

Silence fell over the scene as Jonathan placed his hands on Erina's shoulders and she separated to look him in the eyes.

"Erina, I am so so very sorry for all the trouble I have caused you. They were not by my hands but they are just as much my fault as the villians who caused them. I-..." He faltered, breaking his gaze, "I wasn't there when you... When he... You have every right to be angry, to hate me even, but know this. If you are ever to believe me about anything, then let it be this," He then took hold of her left hand, the one bearing her ring finger and giot to one knee, "I promise you, on my life, on my honour as a Joestar, as a man, as your husband, I never once willingly broke any of our wedding vows nor has the thought ever crossed my mind."

Silence further remained and Jonathan grew afraid.

He lay a kiss upon the hand he held and released a shaking breathe.

"Please..." He pleaded with her, "It was never under my-"

But before he could finish those words Erina embraced him once more, crying harder this time.

"No, Jonathan, I am sorry. I should have never been angry with you, you did nothing wrong, just please don't leave me again...!"

"Erina..." He said softly as he finally gained enough courage to embrace her back.

Honestly, Dio hadn't eaten it several years but he still felt like regurgitating whatever was left. He hated this weird love and touchy affection humans seemed to have. Everything about it revolted him to his core and he just wanted it to stop.

remained like that for a short while, though it felt like an awful long eternity before either one of them spoke again.

"Jonathan..." Erina asks, "What are they like?"

"What?"

"You met them, right? The children at the church?" She says, ":So what were they like?"

"Erina... I don't think..."

"No more secrets..." She hugged him tight, "Just tell me about them..."

And then Jonathan proceeded to say the words none ever expected to hear.

"They say that... They are Dio's children..."

(EXPECT A PROGRESSIVE LACK OF QUALITY WRITing I am getting a job and college so I just want to get this stuff out fast to tell the story I want to tell rather than procrastinating so darn much. Anyways, Good day and God bless you all!)


	5. Chapter 4

(I own nothing. All rights go to the original owners! I'm sorry for not updating? I was finishing up a trilogy and got REALLY into transformers. Anyways, good day and God bless!)

According to the account of his friend, the events followed as such.

After Sunday mass, Pucci had received an anonymous tip in the form of a confession delivered by a man he had never seen before.

The man said he had no name, except that he spoke for "Haruno".

"Men are coming to this town, preacher. Bad men that don't fear God. They have a package. I need you to intercept it, I know you can."

It was so blunt and straightforward, Pucci thought it might be a trap or some kind of deception but when he left his booth to question the man, he found he had simply vanished without a trace, like he was a ghost.

All he had found as a sign that the interaction had happened a note on the ground: a single piece of parchment giving the location of an old abandoned train yard and a time.

Midnight.

He was baffled and unnerved. Who was that man? How did he know of the men coming to town? What package had he been referring to?

Was it drugs? Could it have been weapons?

He did not know. He could not know and yet he had to see. He knew if lord Dio were to regain his strength, he could not afford to have some third party stirring up trouble.

It was raining that night.

He stood by and watched the scene as a man drove his car behind a train car and dropped three small packages in it's shadow before promptly driving off into the night.

They were just three simple crates closed by a lock. It was nothing Pucci could not break through but it was bound by silver.

What sort of monster lay within that they required silver?

Hesitantly Pucci reached for the locks if only to feel the power within, fully prepared to strike with his stand if needed.

But then.

But then he heard a sound.

It was not the one he expected.

It was a whimper. A child's whimpering.

The whimpering came from inside the confinements of the first box.

But how?

Pucci paused and pondered the moment as the whimpering continued, quieted and miserable, like the little voice were being gagged.

But what could it mean?

A child in a box? Was it human trafficking?

He picked up another sound not a moment after. It was the sound of hurried footsteps running through the mud faster than he could control.

Chills ran down his arm as he realized they were coming right for him.

No, not for him. The packages.

Men so low, they were willing to sell children for who knows what.

Without another thought, the priest disappeared in the night with those three packages, and those men were never seen or heard from again.

That morning, three young boys woke up from a drug induced coma to a warm meal.

Three young boys from different homes, with nary one thing in common except the golden star birthmark on their shoulder and a very similar element in their stories that Pucci found deeply distressing.


End file.
